


Unexpectedly

by WellDoneBeca



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Amara and Chuck are not related, Arranged Marriage, Bad Parent Chuck Shurley, Charlie is a Winchester, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Game of Thrones-esque, Gentle Dean Winchester, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Inspired by Game of Thrones, King Chuck Shurley, Kings & Queens, Lord Dean Winchester, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of Virginity, Minor John Winchester/Mary Winchester, Parent Chuck Shurley, Past Amara/Chuck Shurley, Princess reader, Protective Dean Winchester, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 12:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16040240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellDoneBeca/pseuds/WellDoneBeca
Summary: Getting married to Dean Winchester was never in your plans but a princess has to do what the people expect from you.It was also never in your plans that he would be a man so different from what you had first imagined, or that he would captivate you so easily.Maybe it’s not such a bad thing to be married to him, after all.





	1. Prologue

“Y/N,” you heard and turned to look at your stepmother, her eyes staring deeply into yours. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing, Amara.”

Amara gave you a small smile, watching you through the mirror. Your wedding dress fitted you like a glove, bringing your breasts up and squeezing you so tightly you could barely breathe. The golden necklace you’ve gotten as a gift this morning from your mother-in-law matched the details of the fabric covering you and made it look a lot richer, and your face was coated in makeup to make you look your best.

“You look beautiful,” she affirmed, checking your hair to see if there was anything out of place.

You were getting married to a man you’d never met. Your stepmother and grandfather had arranged a political alliance with the Winchesters and you had a duty to fulfil. 

“Lord Dean will fall for you as soon as you enter the abbey,” your handmaid affirmed, standing by your side and straightening your dress back.

“Are you sure?’ you questioned, feeling hesitant.

Amara shook her head, seeing in you the same fear she had had the day she married your father, long ago.

“Maybe,” she touched your back. ”But it doesn’t matter, does it?”

You stared at your reflection for a moment.

“No, Amara.”

Your brother was king and your role was to be a good princess. Your happiness didn’t matter, your duty did.

You were King Chuck’s first child, a daughter born before his first wife - your mother -  had died. And the apple of his eyes for a long time.

If the world was fair, you would be his heir and the queen; however, you were just a woman. If he hadn't had any children with his second wife, Amara, you'd be in the throne now, but that wasn't what had happened. You couldn’t raise a sword or defend your own honour with your hands if your life depended on it, and didn't have supporters enough to start a war, but knew your beauty was a weapon and you knew _this_ was the best option you had in your life now. 

 _The best weapon you have is between your legs –_ Amara had told you the day you had flowered, dismissing how you were completely terrified of the blood coming out of you– _your beauty will take you anywhere you want if you use it_ _the right way_ _._

She had taught you what she thought you needed to know.

“Come,” she offered you a hand as the soldier opened the door of the room you were in. “They are waiting for us.”

 


	2. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's your wedding and you can finally meet your new husband, Lord Dean Winchester.

The only advantage you’ve had in your life when compared to Michael was that your father – Chuck – had actually tried to spend time with you. You were his first child, the only child from a woman he had loved, an adorable baby that loved to giggled and was absolutely curious for the longest time of your life. When your brother was born – months after your father had married Amara -, you’d temporarily lost your spot as dad’s favourite for a while until he realised Michael was a terrible child and didn’t give him as much attention as you did.

Chuck was, in the best words you could find, a very absent father to your siblings. You were the oldest of four children, and one of two girls. Michael was the oldest man, followed by Gabriel, who was the twin to your youngest sister, Hannah. Between Michael and the twins, your stepmother had once been pregnant with a boy, but she’d lost him in the middle of the pregnancy. In all of your lives, your father barely paid much attention to you four and that always made your first brother resent you. Luckily, the twins never manifested such a thought.

When Chuck died, Amara had taken your education to a different direction he had first intended. Your duty was now to marry and be the perfect example of the sister of a young king. Months ago when Hannah was sent to away to be married – her brother’s idea -, you were explicitly not allowed to cry or show any hard emotion, as well in many other occasions you’d be forced to appear in public. Not that you were allowed to do so frequently. For that reason, recently, you’ve earned the fame of being a calm and quiet young lady who didn’t waste words or time in useless matters, always standing still and behaving well.

When your uncle arrived with the news, you weren’t surprised. You were to be married to Dean Winchester in a fortnight, time enough for him and important people around the country to reach the capital and be present. Your dress was already being sewed, and you had no space for words. They wanted to send you away to calm down the few people who believed you should be the queen and not your brother, and your stepmother wanted to get rid of the last thing that reminded her she wasn’t the country’s favourite queen by far: You, your late mother’s carbon copy.

“My princess,” the soldier offered you a hand just as you left the carriage.

“Thank you.”

They said Dean Winchester was a beautiful man, but very rogue and known to be a violent fighter. Charlotte – his younger sister and your brother’s future wife - had promised you her brother was gentle and kind. She didn’t seem to be lying, but no one has yet told her what a spoiled and cruel brat Michael had always been. Their family could be just as well hiding his true personality.

Your father had never loved Amara. He’d never forgot your mother and that was clear by how different you were treated when compared to his other children. He even suggested naming Hannah after your mother when she was born but Amara dismissed the idea quickly.

“You look beautiful,” she affirmed. “There is nothing to be afraid of.”

Taking a breath, you nodded, hearing the Preacher’s finishing his speech and standing where you were supposed to be.

The doors opened to you loudly and your eyes landed on Gabriel, giving your young brother a smile. Michael had offered to take you to your husband but you refused. You never liked your brother, you wouldn’t pretend you did for the rest of the nobles. Instead, you opened a large smile to your baby – not even 12 years-old - brother, looking down at the people waiting for you in there. The Winchesters were there, along with many lords you’ve never met but had given you so many gifts that a whole chamber was filled with them: Dresses, books, jewellery, shoes, accessories, perfumes, items and more items to your castle, things for you, for your new husband, and for you as a couple.

“Look at him,” your brother whispered. “He was pacing around the role time waiting for you, his brother actually had to go there talk to him.”

You didn’t want to look at him but did the same way. The man standing between the statues of the mother and the father was different from what you had imagined. During the morning, you’ve had breakfast with all the women and many of them had teased you about the wedding day _and night._

They’d defined him as _terrified._

A cousin of yours said he was old and violent and that was why no one ever married him. You – that had always dreamt of having a gallant, good-looking husband and was once betrothed to a man who looked so much like a fairytale prince – were terrified.

However, Dean wasn’t old or terrifying. He was young, very tall with broad shoulders and light brown hair with a sharp jaw and plump lips. He was gorgeous.

You didn’t even see the rest of the people while you walked in his direction.

“My lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of God and men to witness the union of a man and his wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever,” he said to the crowd behind you and then looked at the two of you.

Honestly, you lost many of his words as he spoke. You could only see Dean’s eyes. He had forest green eyes that just fitted his face perfectly. All you wanted was to run a finger over his jaw to feel it. He was beautiful. When he took your hand in his, you gasped. Where your skin was cold, Dean’s was warm and soft, and he gave your palm a light squeeze along with a soft smile, noticing how his eyes were trying to comfort you. Under those young features, he could see the terrified girl you were.

“Now,” The Preacher started wrapping the ribbon on your hands. “Let it be known that Y/N, daughter of our late King Chuck, and Lord Dean Winchester are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder,” he recited looking at the two of you. “You can now say the words.”

Dean nodded.

“I, Dean Thomas William, take thee, Y/F/N, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law; and thereto I give thee my troth.“

You took a long breath, and he nodded slowly.

“I, Y/F/N, take thee, Dean Thomas William, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love, to cherish an to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

Your heart was racing and your head spinning when you finished it, and you knew you would need to sit down soon enough to catch your energy. Feeling it, Dean held you by your elbows and kissed your forehead, completely ignoring the tradition of laying his lips on yours. Still, everyone applauded and you felt your shoulders drop when it was all ended.

“Let’s sit down a little,” Dean whispered when people started leaving for the reception, looking over to where the people had started to leave the abbey, and then at the closest person to you. “I need a seat for my wife.”

Just a few minutes later, you were sat on a bench with Dean standing in front of you, drinking water from a cup a handmade had just given you.

“Are you feeling any better?” he questioned.

“Yes, my lord. Thank you,” you gave the empty cup back to the handmaid.

He shifted his weight and nodded.

“I don’t believe we were introduced, my princess,” he noticed. “I’m Dean Winchester, Charlotte’s older brother and the heir to the Reach.”

You frowned, taking a moment to understand what he was trying to do. He was trying to be sweet to you.

“Oh,” you sat straight. “I’m Y/N Shurley. King Michael’s older sister and… And his sister.”

He opened you a smile, which immediately surprised you.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Y/N,” he offered you his arm. “Shall we?”


	3. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to get to know you in your wedding party.

You were not sure who had funded the wedding party, but it didn’t look cheap at all. You could see the decorations around the throne room and various large tables were filled with food for everyone. As far as you knew, hundreds – if not more than a thousand – of people were invited. There were nobles from every corner of your country and musicians near the table you and Dean were sat along with your families, ready to attend any request from any of you.

You didn’t give them any attention, though, but continuously stared at your own skirt while twisting your fingers on your ivory dress, until your husband cleared his throat.

“So, Y/N,” he turned to you. “What’s your favourite colour?”

You arched your eyebrows at him, not understanding what he meant while locked in his forest green eyes.

“Your favourite colour,” he repeated. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Oh,” you felt your cheeks warming up in embarrassment. “It’s Y/F/C, my lord.”

He nodded, acknowledging the fact as someone poured wine on the large cup you two shared.

Dean just stared at you for a moment when you didn’t say anything more and tried to continue the conversation.

“What about your favourite fruit?”

“I don’t have one, my lord. I like many of them.”

“Like…”

“Berries,” you finally affirmed, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “Grapes, blackberries, strawberries, raspberries…”

“Cherries?” he suggested with a small smile and your eyes grew wide.

“Oh, no, my lord. Cherries make my face swallow and my body to become itchy for days,” you confessed, embarrassed.

Dean looked at the tables around, and it finally hit him that there was no sign of cherries in the party, possibly to avoid you to come in contact with it.

“Would you excuse me, my lord?” you decided and he nodded softly.

“Take your time.”

Trying to look casual, you stood up and walked into a random direction, finding Charlie and quickly having her wrapping her arm around yours and held her hand tightly.

“You’re cold,” she noticed. “Are you afraid?”

You took a deep breath before confirming with a nod. You could barely feel your toes, already absurdly cold inside your shoes. Still, you were smiling it out as a well-educated princess.

“Panicking,” you said finally, looking around.

Charlie laughed while caressing your hand.

“Don’t worry. My brother is a good man, he won’t hurt you.”

She looked confident, though you didn’t completely believe in her words.

You wanted the party to go for hours and days long, but time wasn’t with you. Each wedding party had a huge pigeon pie, and you knew your evening was coming to an end very soon when yours was announced.

“Y/N,” your husband stood up, his very tall figure creating a large shadow as he moved away from the table. “Come.”

You looked at Charlie for a moment and then walked in his direction quietly, standing by his side. He honestly made you feel extremely small.

“Hold it with me, please,” he whispered and you complied.

You didn’t know who owned the blade but wrapped your fingers around its handle while he wrapped his huge hands on yours. He was so close to you that you were completely engulfed by him, and you could easily rest your head on his chest, his warmth circling you. When you brought the sword down to break the crust, dozens of pigeons left it in a very dramatic way, which made you smile for a moment.

Your eyes were glued on the birds as they found their way out of the throne room and your attention only moved away from them when your husband touched your shoulder with his free hand, a gentle smile on his plump lips.

“My mother told me it is a fish pie,” he whispered as someone cut a piece for the two of you. “You don’t like pigeons?”

“Not really,” you looked down in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, you probably…”

“I don’t like it either,” he interrupted you, smiling as if it was nothing.

Under everyone’s attentive eyes, he fed you a piece of the pie carefully, smiling when your lips curled in delight.

“Thank you,” you muttered and he reached out to clean your chin from the crumbles. “Thank you.”

The ritual served to calm you down, and you even accepted when Samuel – Dean’s middle brother – when he asked you for a dance.

“Princess Y/N,” he smiled as you two started moving elegantly. “You look _beautiful_.”

You flushed, looking down at your feet for a moment and he chuckled. Sam looked a lot like his brother but was much taller. Dean even looked short by his side, which he definitely wasn’t.

“My brother is a very lucky man,” he affirmed, moving gently with you. “And you are a very lucky woman.”

“Am I?” you muttered.

Samuel gave you a small, sad smile.

“I know it is hard,” he affirmed. “You don’t know each other, but you will soon enough.”

You sighed and he stopped moving, caressing your hand.

“Dean fell for you when he saw a painting of you,” he affirmed. “And we all heard many good things about you. He’s willing to try, but you need to be too.”

He moved his eyes to his side and you looked at the same direction, finding your husband waiting for you.

“I’ll leave you to be,” your brother-in-law walked away, and Dean approached you, offering you his hand for you to hold.

“Come.”

You felt your heart racing. He had a gentle look on his face but it didn’t help your nerves.

“Where?” you questioned.

“To our chambers,” Dean said calmly.

You frowned, looking around and noticing how no one was paying attention to the two of you more than to the food and wine.

“But the bedding ceremony…” you looked up to his face, taking his offer and your skin meeting his. “I don’t understand.”

“There will be no bedding ceremony,” he caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. “Just you and me. Come.”

 


	4. The First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean surprises you in your first night together.

You walked silently hand in hand with Dean, trying to keep yourself calm and wondering what would he do to you now he had you alone. You were supposed to be ready for this; it was your wedding night after all. Still, you couldn’t help but feel terrified.

When he opened the door to let you in, you stepped into the room shaking and cold, your eyes falling directly at the wine waiting on the table.

“My lady,” you heard, turning around to look at your now husband and gulping.

Before he asked, you moved your hand to the side of your dress, where its buttons were positioned, and struggled to open them. You were shaking and dizzy, and he could clearly see it.

“Stop it,” he walked closer to you and held your hand. “Please, stop.”

You raised your eyes to him, teary and wide, and Dean caressed your fingers for a moment.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

“Do you want to do it yourself?” you muttered, your jaw shaking, and he shook his head.

“No,” he shook his head. “Not… Not today.”

Your eyes widened and the first tear fell from your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he quickly moved his hand to your cheek, drying a tear with his thumb.

“You don’t want me,” you closed your eyes.

“I do,” he corrected you. “A lot.”

You frowned, shaking your head; you couldn’t understand.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he caressed your hair, thick fingers tangled in your locks. “Your face, your voice, your body… You are perfect.”

You continued to sob softly, confused and afraid.

“But we just met, and you are terrified, sweetheart,” Dean continued, raising your chin with his index and thumb, moving the latter to caress your lips. “Let’s wait a few days.”

You nodded and he moved his lips to your forehead, laying a kiss on your skin almost exactly how he’d done hours earlier.

“I’ll tell your handmaid to come in and help you put on something comfortable. You need to rest, we both do,” he instructed. “I”ll leave you be.

And he did what he had promised, only coming back when you were in your sleeping gowns and using the time to also put on something more appropriate. When your maid left, trying to hide a smirk, he came back with just a tunic.

“Beautiful,” he smiled. “You can take the bed, and I…”

“No, my lord,” you interrupted him, your eyes wide and your voice still shaky. “Please.”

“Why?” he questioned, not understanding.

“They will know if you don’t lay down with me,” you affirmed. “They will speak about us and...”

“Okay,” he walked to you and held your hand, calming you down. “I’ll lie down with you. You don’t need to be afraid.”

After washing your face, you ran a hand over your hair, undoing the hairstyle the handmaid had spent an hour fixing for you. When your hair fell loose on your back, you caught Dean staring at you.

You sat on the bed silently, laying down with your eyes falling on him, and he did the same, looking at you.

“You look beautiful,” he affirmed. “Much more beautiful like _this_ than before.”

You looked down at the pillow and tried making yourself comfortable by his side, not sure of what to do. In your lifetime, you’ve shared your bed with Hannah and some cousins, but now you didn’t know what to do.

“Can I hold you, my lady?” he questioned in a whisper and your eyes widened.

“Yes, my lord.”

Slowly, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, his warmth surrounding you as well, and you tucked your head between his chin and his chest.

“Good night, my lady,” he whispered and you closed your eyes, hoping you could manage to fall asleep.

  



	5. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up in Dean's arms

You woke up in a very calming way. Dean was still close to you, your bodies tangled in a gentle mess, and for the first time in a long time, you were feeling very safe.

“Good morning, my lady,” your husband whispered when your eyes met.

You felt your cheeks warming up in embarrassment instantly and he only smiled.

“Good morning, my lord,” you finally said.

“How was your sleep?”

“Good, my lord,” you looked down, hiding your face on the crook of his neck and breathing his scent for a moment.

The knock on the door made the two of you raise your heads in surprise, and Dean cleared his throat before raising his voice.

“We are not ready yet,” he let out, still protectively holding you, and you closed you eyes. Maybe you could fall asleep again.

Dean kissed your forehead very gently, as if he was still testing the waters, even after he’d crossed that line long ago. You enjoyed his affection. It reminded you of how your father did the same to you when you were a child, something you lost after he passed away. The last time someone being so affectionate with you before Dean was when Chuck decided to do so before he left for the hunt that caused his death.

Even with your husband’s warning, a handmaid entered your chamber and stood in front of your bed, making you flush and Dean move his eyes to her.

“My lord, my princess,” she bowed for a moment. “Breakfast is ready and waiting for you.”

You frowned.

“You can bring it later,” you said, confused. “We said we are not ready.”

Deam squeezed your hand for a moment, making you look at him.

“We won’t have it alone. Our families are waiting for us.”

You widened your eyes. You’ve completely forgotten that your first breakfast as a couple was supposed to be with your families.

“What will we tell them?” you whispered.

Your husband frowned, looking in your eyes confused.

“We do not need to tell them anything,” he said like it was obvious. “You are my wife now, a married woman. You don’t own them anything.”

* * *

You could already feel eyes on you as you and Dean stepped out of your chambers, even though you were still alone. Anticipation wasn’t great. They would eye your face and the way he held your hand, how you blushed like the maiden you still were – something they didn’t actually know – and he grinned like a fool. They would judge your dress and your body, and the way you had brushed your hair.

Dean had been the one choosing your outfits that morning from the gifts you’ve received just the day before from his own father. The dress was similar to the pieces you’ve seem Charlie and her cousins – _your cousins_ now _–_ wearing and exposed much more skin than anything you’ve ever worn. Dean’s homeland was very warm and sunny, you could see that in his tanned skin, and you just wondered if he was feeling cold in the capital.

Your arms were exposed to the sun, as well as your back and the top of your breasts. You had felt Dean’s eyes burning your skin the moment he saw you dressed, and the way he licked his lip in delight. Apparently, he liked what he saw.

 _Beautiful,_ he had said when you finally approached him sat a few steps from you.

You stopped in the middle of the way.

“I do not wish to go,” you decided and he looked into your green eyes, puzzled.

You were afraid. You didn’t want to see Michael, his mother, or anyone else. You wanted to stay in your room and not see their faces, and not think of how they would read through your lie.

Silently, he walked the two of your back and opened the door to your chambers again.

“Change your clothes, and lay down,” he caressed your cheek. “I’ll let a handmaid know my wife is too sore and our breakfast must be served in our room later today.”

You looked down at your feet in embarrassment and he ran a thumb on your lips for a moment before you complied.


	6. The Blossoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your relationship with Dean continues to blossom.

You managed to ‘hide’ in your chambers for three days. During them, Dean stood by your side for most of the time. You learnt about his childhood and stories, how he was the one naming Samuel ‘ _the_ _Strong_ _’_ when he was a plump kid, in order to avoid any unflattering thing to be added to his name, like with his uncle ‘Slomon _the_ _Stupid_ ’. He also told you about his time in the war in a very light way, not giving any details but explaining why everyone took his as such a hard man. He also mentioned his best friend, a knight named Castiel, and how he wanted to see your wedding but couldn’t because his wife was about to give birth to their first child.

“He sent us a letter apologising for not coming, said the kid is a healthy strong boy,” he affirmed, taking a sip from the cup of wine in front of him. “And there is a gift waiting for us in Highgarden.”

You smiled at the way he looked relaxed talking about his life.

“You’re good friends,” you smiled softly at him.

“Yes,” he looked back at you. “He is excited to meet you. His wife is just as well, she said things haven’t been the same since Charlie left.”

You smiled a small smile. It would be good to have some sort of friend going there.

“Do you have any friends?” he questioned.

“Well,” you sat back uncomfortably. “I shared a chamber with some cousins and my sister Hannah and…”

His smile died, finally noticing what that meant. You were lonely.

“Amara always said none of them was enough to befriend a princess, she never let me and my sister around them for more than necessary” you muttered. “I spent a lot of time with Hael when she was staying here I suspect she was only with me because she wanted to impress my brother. She gave up when she realised we weren’t very close.”

And it was true. When your father was still alive and told you how he planned to betroth you to the first son of a different family that used to be very influential in the past in your kingdom and Michael to their first daughter, you were hyped with the possibility of finally making a friend. She was to be queen eventually, so Amara wouldn’t see any problem with your friendship.

“You were to marry her brother, right?” he questioned.

You nodded. According to your father, you would stay behind when you visited their castle, but circumstances cause the plans to go wrong.

“It is funny how things are different from what I thought they would be just two years ago,” you pointed.

“Two years is a long time,” he agreed. “Where do you see us then?”

You frowned.

“In two years?”

Dean confirmed with a nod of his head and you shook yours.

“I don’t know. In the Reach. Maybe we could visit other places, other countries.”

He smiled, changing his posture and reaching out to caress your hand, taking it and pressing his lips against your knuckles.

“Your stepmother invited us to dinner,” he muttered and you bit your lip in annoyance. “You can’t run from her forever.”

“I can try,” you looked down and shifted on your seat.

Dean took a breath and pulled you closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“What is wrong?” he questioned. “Why is it that you don’t want to see her?”

You breathed deep for a long moment, closing your eyes.

“She always knows when I lie. She knows everything,” you let out.

Amara had put a heavy pressure on you the days prior to your wedding. She needed you to be perfect and look perfect, to forge the alliance between the crown and the Winchesters.

‘ _We need their help, food and money; they need a wife to their first-born._ ’ She had said. ‘ _Give him what he wants and we can have what we want.’_

“She’ll ask about you and our first night,” you affirmed, knowing your stepmother well enough to presume her actions, as well as the rest of your family. “Then Michael will make jokes about how I was so broken I couldn’t stand up the following day. Then, grandfather will say something about an heir.”

“And my father will agree,” he touched your temple with his lips. “He’ll mention how I’ve always wanted children and how it would be good for our castle to be filled with children once again. Charlie will smile and say our children can be best friends.”

You turned to look at his face and Dean did the same, staring into your eyes. He pulled you close, moving his lips to cheek and kissing you gently and affectionately.

You were getting used to Dean’s kisses and now the feeling of embarrassment you had every time he laid his lips on your skin had changed. Every time he moved away, there was a hit of longing inside you, a twist of hunger that made you want to beg him for more. You wanted a _real_ kiss.

“I will be there the whole time,” he said calmingly.

“Are you a good liar?” you questioned and he chuckled.

“We’ll find out together.”

  



	7. The Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  You take a new step in your relationship with Dean.

The room was filled with dead silence while you ate. You and Dean had arrived just a minute before Michael and you cursed yourself for not being even later. Charlie didn’t stop looking at you, as well as Samuel and his wife, Jessica. Sat by their side, John and Mary were eating with smiles. Amara and her father were in front of them and Michael was at the end of the table.

“So,” your brother-in-law cleared his throat. “I see you’re feeling better, Y/N.”

You tensed instantly and Michael burst into laughter.

“You are not as frigid as I thought you would be, sister,” he affirmed, cleaning his face with a napkin.

His grandfather and mother exchanged heavy looks and Amara looked at you.

“We are happy you’re feeling better,” she assured you. “Dean, how long do you plan to stay in the Capital?”

Your husband relaxed clearly at the question.

“Actually,” he held your hand under the table. “We intend to leave the day after tomorrow.”

Your stepmother’s arms widened instantly.

Amara wasn’t a bad woman. She had some affection towards you, something she showed sometimes, but it was a complicated relationship between the two of you. She didn’t like the memory of your mother, but you were never much of a harm. Of course, there was always the threat that you would take the throne away from Michael but you never manifested any intentions of doing so. Until Hannah was born, you were the daughter she’d always wanted as a young girl playing with dolls.

“So soon? You just got married,” she exclaimed. “Won’t you be here for Michael’s wedding?”

He didn’t even flinch but only smiled at your brother and his sister.

“We will be back in time. I want Y/N to feel comfortable in the Reach. It is her home now and she deserves to meet it as soon as possible.”

“I’m sure you will love the castle,” Charlie affirmed with a gentle smile. “It is beautiful, the gardens are huge and the people… You’re gonna love all of it.”

You smiled at her, feeling calmer.

“There’s a waterfall close to the Rose’s Road in the way home,” Samuel brought up with a boyish smile and his wife instantly blushed. “Brother, make sure to bring her there. Jessica loved it.”

“Of course, brother,” your husband said dismissively.

The rest of the meal was long and silent and you could feel each time someone looked at you. Your mother was furious, your brother was intrigued, and each member of Dean’s family seemed amused by something, probably the rumours of your fake-first night.

Back to your room, you couldn’t stop watching your husband read the book in his hands while he was sat on the bed, walking to him and pulling it away from him.

“Is there something wrong?” he questioned with a frown.

Gathering up courage, you leant down and kissed him. It started slow, testing, but quickly became more passionate, making your husband pull you down to the bed and lay down on top of you.

“Dean...” you muttered and he pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” you licked your lips. “Please, touch me. I want to… I want to be yours.”

He stared at you in surprise for a moment but his face quickly changed to lust as his lips moved to yours quickly.

When he noticed how you were trembling, though, he stopped.

“Come here,” he sat down and helped you do the same. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Every time you even  _touched_ , it was like something lightened up inside you and you couldn’t seem to calm it down alone. You could be a maiden but you knew what that was and how you would only find relief with his help. You didn’t just want him: you desired him.

Not saying a single word, you stood up, opening your dress and letting it fall to the floor before undoing your underskirt. It was one of the dresses he had brought from the Reach to you. You were wearing nothing more underneath.

“Please, my lord.”

He licked his lips.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he moved back, sitting close to the headboard and spreading his legs.

You moved awkwardly, going to his side, but he stopped you.

“Here,” he used his arms to pull you and you sat down on his lap. “Now, where were we?”

He moved his hand to your face and pulled you back, kissing you once again and taking his hands to your back in order to get your bodies even closer.

It only took you a few more moments of kissing to feel something hard right under you, pressed against your woman’s parts. Between your legs, you could feel something wet, which made you frown and pull away.

“What’s wrong?” Dean muttered.

“I’m…” you muttered. “There’s something wrong.”

He frowned at you, taking his hands from your back.

“What’s it, Y/N?”

Your folds were wet, just as it happened when your monthly blood reached you.

“I’m…” you felt your cheeks flushed and tears prickled from your eyes. “I’m so sorry, my lord. I didn’t mean…”

You pulled away quickly, ashamed, but stopped when there was no blood where you were sat, just a small watery puddle.

Dean just stared at you, waiting for an answer.

“I thought… I thought it was my blood,” you muttered and he tilted his head. “There is… There is something wet..”

Your husband’s eyes changed instantly and he smiled.

“Come back here, Y/N,” He helped you back to his lap and moved his hand to your stomach caressing your skin for a moment before moving it to your womanhood, making you jump. “ _Damn_ … You’re very wet.”

You frowned, biting your lip when something  _good_ flowed in you.

“I don’t understand.”

“It means you’re around,” he ran your hand on your folds and you closed your eyes, letting out a long sigh.

You’ve never felt that before.

“Gods,” you hissed.

Dean smiled openly and you raised your hips to give him more space, feeling as his fingers moved to your entrance. He teased you slowly and with a naughty, boyish look.

“Lay down, Y/N,” he whispered and you complied.

Standing up, Dean quickly undressed. He was beautiful, with broad shoulders and a bit of a soft stomach, with strong arms. Now you understood how he could handle you so easily. When he dropped his pants, you moved your eyes away, and he chuckled, finding his place above you.

Dean groped your breasts for a moment and you moaned softly for a moment.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, positioning himself against you.

You nodded softly and he moved his hand to hold yours.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” your husband whispered.

You held your breath and closed her eyes as you felt him breaking your maidenhead. He entered you slowly and very gently, looking into your eyes the whole time.

“ _Dammit_ ,” he swore. “You are so small. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You had your eyes closed. You could feel how your wetness made it easier for him to move but it still hurt.

“It burns,” you whispered.

“I’m gonna…” he pulled away and you moaned instantly with how amazing that felt. “ _Oh, fuck_.”

“Don’t go, please,” you whimpered.

He smiled and moved his lips to your neck, kissing and using his hand to caress your skin. Every movement of his hips sent you to a very pleasurable state, making every inch of you itchy and hot.

“Dean,” you sighed, taking your hands to his hair and tangling your fingers between his long locks, squirming when he licked the lobe of your ear.

“Does it feel good?” he whispered.

You nodded, moaning softly and closing your eyes.

You stood there for a long time, each of his moments bringing more and more pleasure to you, and Dean licked his lips.

_His leg._

“Come here,” he pulled you, managing to sit down on his lap once again. “My beautiful, beautiful, princess,” he whispered, holding your hips and helping you move up and down.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close and kissing your back.

“Dean!” you let out when his hipbone brushed against the little pearl between your legs. “Oh, God!.”

Words because useless after some time, and grunts, moans and whispers filled up your chambers.

“Dean,” you gasped, feeling something building inside you. “Dean, I’m feeling…”

“It’s okay, love,” he moved his hand to your butt, squeezing it. “You can let go. Let go for me, let me feel you.”

You panted, holding him close and letting your head fell back, spasms crossing your body while a loud shameful moan left your lips along with his name, the pleasure sending you to the clouds and back.

“There you go, there you go,” he groaned.

You fell back on him, and Dean continued to help your hips moving against his, and let out a groan when he spilt his seed inside you, finally stopping and just holding you as the two of you two breathed heavily against one another.

“Are okay?” he questioned and you moved back to look at his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful,” you felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment.

He smiled, caressing your face.

“That’s good,” he whispered.

“Can we do that again later?” you muttered.

“Of course. As many times as you want.”

  


  



	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You leave your home to a new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPN Genre Bingo Square Filled: Long Car Ride (I mean... A carriage counts as a car to me)

You never imagined you would love to leave your home.

Your carriage shook as you moved, looking outside through the window with Dean by your side. Your dress was comfortable around your body and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would _actually_ be back for Michael’s wedding now you’ve actually left.

“Will we stop by the waterfall?” you questioned your husband.

“Do _you_ want to pass by the waterfall?” he asked and you turned to look at him, seeming surprised.

“I do. Lady Jessica blushed thinking of it,” you smiled, moving your gaze back to the outside. “I want to blush thinking of it too.”

Dean laughed and moved his hand to your chin, pulling you to look back at him and then kissed you on the lips.

“Of course, my beloved lady. We can go wherever you want.”

You smiled, your hand moving to his hair and tugging on it slightly, which made him growl.

Not even thinking, you stood up and sat on his lap, giggling.

Smiling wickedly, Dean put his hands under your dress, pushing it up until he was touching your thighs while his lips attacked yours. You didn’t know how long you stood there before your hips were grinding onto his.

“My naughty little princess,” he smirked, his now full erection rubbing against you and making you shamefully wet. “ _Right here_?”

”It’s not like anyone is here,” you argued, blushing. “We are alone and married. They can shut their mouths if it annoys them.”

He laughed, making his chest tremble, and reached out to close the windows before circling your waist.

“Let’s give them a reason to be annoyed, then.”

Dean opened your dress and you leant to kiss him while he undressed you.

“My pretty princess,” he whispered, helping you out of your undergarments and moving his hand to your womanhood, caressing your velvet lips. “My _wet_ princess.”

You blushed, letting out a soft moan and he circled your bud of nerves.

“Dean!” you yelped.

He smiled wickedly and shook his head, licking his lips.

“What?” you squirmed as his finger insisted on stimulating you.

It felt too good. Every time he flicked your little button, pleasure washed over you and you couldn’t help but get wetter and more and more _squirmy_.

“Dean,” you felt your legs clenching.

He entered you with a finger, not stopping his thumb, and you closed your eyes.

“Do you like this?” he asked in a dark, low voice, and you nodded.

Your head fell back for a moment. Ever since you had consummated your marriage, he found the act of making you reach your peak with his fingers very entertaining.

When you finally did so, now, he pulled his fingers from you and made you look at his face.

Dean smiled, lifting you so he could pull his manhood out, entering you slowly and your jaw fell open as he put his head in the crook of your neck.

“Keep this feeling in your mind,” he said, moving his lips to your ear.

“Why?” you managed to let out.

“Cause I’m gonna love you like this every day, my princess,” he moved you up and then down, making you yelp. “Every single day.”

Well… You could grow to love that.

The end.


End file.
